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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262181">less than that</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/irabelas/pseuds/irabelas'>irabelas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>measurements [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Creampie, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hair Pulling, Large Cock, Making Bad Decisions, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Slight fluff, consent is given however, cursing, horny decisions, is it, mildy doubious consent, pictures taken, sacreligious sex, spoilers for main missions, very brief choking, very very, when it’s in a chapel?, wow just really putting all the kinks in here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:22:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/irabelas/pseuds/irabelas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, so I’m special?”</p><p>“No. Yet you’re here, are you not?”</p><p>“Really know how to charm a girl, don’t you?” </p><p>“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Placide/Female V, Placide/V (Cyberpunk 2077)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>measurements [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>less than that</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It is out of my hands,” Placide replied, a short pause before he continued. “If it wasn’t, I’d have you pay for this.” He gestured towards his face with a gloved thumb, a split lip adorning his face where your fist had connected with it earlier. </p><p>“And that’s outta <em> my </em> hands, pal,” you shrugged, little patience left for the tall man, ”and, ‘sides - think that’s above your paygrade at the moment.” The toll of it all felt like something you’d experience during a lifetime - reliving Johnny’s memories, the ice bath, the waking up dead <em> again </em> - not a couple hours. It was getting to be a bit too much at once. It felt good taunting Placide; he hadn’t been kind (not that you’d expect that) or even neutral when you’d taken the job - it hadn’t felt unprofessional, but rather <em> hostile </em>. </p><p>Which was how this interaction was turning out to be, too. You hadn’t been kidding when you’d said the two of you wouldn’t be friends. </p><p>“Boss hurt your feelings, not letting you finish what you started? Well, don’t go around considering us even ‘cause you got a split lip, you asshole. You fuckin tried to’ kill me!”</p><p>“Do not provoke me.” Placide said, voice deep and menacing, fists clenching in his coat. </p><p>“Hah! Not like <em> you </em> can do anything to stop me.” You went to grab the door, but his hand on your outstretched arm stopped you, Placide putting his large body between you and the only way you knew out of the chapel. His grip was strong, electrifying your muscles, the static shock it sent through you making the hairs on the nape of your neck stand. </p><p>You’d been this close to him once before, when he had grabbed a hold of you across the desk and jacked you in - but now you were practically face to face. Your eyes narrowed, head tilted back to catch his eyes, seeing the way his jaw was setting dangerously, lip bruised. It looked like it hurt, <em> good </em>. He stared back just as intently, waiting for your response, for your next move. </p><p>You knew what this meant - he’d go against orders for some imagined vendetta ‘gainst you. He who had seemed so loyal to Brigitte, just a few clicks ago. If he wanted a pissing contest, he’d get one. And so, you did what one does - and headbutted him. </p><p>Placide - too quick, his reaction too instantaneous - and you - far too short to even reach his chin. You smacked headfirst into his chest, hard. </p><p>He had you by the hair before you even registered that your gun wasn’t by your hip. </p><p>“You,” he snarled, pulling you so close that your noses almost met, “will regret that.” </p><p>The tug of his arm almost lifted you off the ground, dragging you along. Alarms started ringing in your head, cobbled together with a voice, ending up sounding like the ambiance you left on while dozing away on a nap. You scrambled for purchase against him, fingers gripping into his coat while your vision blurred together. </p><p>Forcefully pulling you along, shoved you into a room head first. It took a moment, your grip almost faltering as you caught your balance - the two of you were in an office of sorts, your lower back pressed against a desk. </p><p>“Reckless girl,” he said once a door closed behind you.</p><p>“<em> Entrepreneur </em> , thank you,” you managed to snort back, watching him pull your gun from <em> somewhere </em> and place it down to the side unceremoniously, safely out of your reach. Dust danced in the strands of light the broken blinds let through, against Placides skin, golden and illuminating. He really didn’t look like a ‘runner - he looked too burly, like he pumped iron five times a week, not like a scrawny thing jacked into the net. None of that muscle looked like chrome to you. You bet he acted as bodyguard whenever Brigitte needed it. He sure did make for an intimidating statue to have at one's side, silent and scowling. He probably could lift you up with one arm without breaking a sweat. He had practically done just that, though. To say that you’d been surprised upon meeting <em> him </em> in the butchers basement was an understatement. Not looking the part of a netrunner wasn’t something all that bad, though. Looks could be deceiving, you knew.</p><p>“Eyes on me.” Placide broke your train of thought by speaking. </p><p>A hand flew up to your face, and you shrunk back, expecting to lose a few teeth with the punch that was sure to follow. Instead, the hand cradled your head, his dark eyes piercing when your own opened cautiously. </p><p>“Wh-what?” you started, eyes darting across his face, trying to read him. You could smell him, the heady scent, perfumed, almost sweet, tangled with musk and oud radiating off him, that’s how close he was to you now. It felt claustrophobic, his entire form caging you against the desk jabbing you. It struck you as suddenly as his hand had - he was <em> checking up on you </em>, watching your pupils for a sign of a concussion. “You didn’t... shove me in here to beat me up?</p><p>“Think you managed that yourself.” His hand moved, and with that his thumb pushed against your lips. Tugging at the bottom, testing the plumpness of the flesh, eyes following the path his thumb made along your skin. Your breath hitched, frozen, eyes wide and following his gaze. The gloved digit dropped from your lips and curved its path along your chin and followed your jawline, stopping only when it was pressed into the side of your head again. </p><p>“You’re fine.” Placide finally concluded, as if what he’d just done wasn’t fucking weird. Why’d he threaten you, pull you into a fucking church closet or whatever, tenderly hold you head between his hands if that was all he was gonna say? The directness of it made you swallow a breath and it took him stepping back and breaking eye contact, content with his check up, for you to fess up a retort. </p><p>”You gonna infect me with another virus or what?” You could make a run for it if you wanted to, but <em> fuck, </em> you loved that gun. “‘Cause that didn’t work so well last time.”</p><p>Placide didn’t reply, and instead started tugging off his gloves, the fabric discarded to his side. He took a step toward you now, voice a low timbre that made you size up from the shiver it sent up your spine, as he spoke. “You need to be taught a lesson.”</p><p><em> Lesson </em>? Fuck, you didn’t flunk outta school to let some mysterious netrunner who hid in a church like a fucking gargoyle teach you about… what exactly? </p><p>You got your answer soon enough. The warmth of his hands came back, grabbing at your shoulders and turning you around so quickly that your head started swimming again. He pushed your shoulders down into the desk, pushing your legs apart with a boot.</p><p>“Wh-what’re you f-fuckin’ do-” you struggled back against the push of his hands, arms trying to get a hold of something, anything, getting ready to make a run for the door and your gun, “you’ve already fucked with me enough you bastard-”</p><p>He ground his hips into yours and you sized up, squirming stopping like he’d pressed on some hidden pause button with the movement. You swallowed audibly, eyes widening to stare into the blank wall that was just a few inches away. You could feel him, the heavy weight of him pushing against your ass -  why was he doing this? You’d literally just tried to knock him unconscious a few minutes earlier - and failed, mind you - and here he was, caressing your face and checking your head and grinding his hard-on against your ass. His fingers found your zipper, fingers dancing against soft skin, pushing at the denim. The hand abandoned that soon, opting to palm at your thighs and hips, mapping out the feel of you pressed against him.</p><p>It didn’t feel like anything else, this - the room, dark and so <em>quiet</em>, the warmth of his hands on you, drawing up and down your sides. It sent bolts of arousal mixed with fear across your synapses. It was like downing tequila with no chaser, the warmth spreading in your gut and making goosebumps rise along your arms and legs, the loss of control scary. You felt the extreme of every emotion - when his hand grazed over your ass and <em>squeezed</em> the plump of it you wanted to tell him to <em>stop</em> and to <em>just</em> <em>get on with it</em> all at the same time. </p><p>Placide made a thoughtful hum. He stilled completely, sensing your apprehension and spoke evenly. “Tell me if you want this to stop now, and I will.”</p><p>“N-no,” you choked out, but you still struggled against him, head still trying to grasp around his intentions, what he was pulling out of you, and <em> why </em>. </p><p>Why he was gonna try fucking you after he’d sent you to your death - which, <em> by the way, </em> asshole move - after only gotten a split lip in return when you’d waltzed inside hours later, was a mystery to you. Deep down in your gut it felt like what you were doing was wrong, some primitive reflex wanting you out of there now. </p><p>But fuck, it felt good. His hands rested along the curve of your hip, the other one a bit higher - probably on his way to fondle your tits when he noticed your mood shift. You were already clenching around nothing and what had he done? Humped against your ass a bit.You felt like a horny teenager all over again and with a huff, made up your mind. ”You’re fucking psycho, you know that? Getting off on this,” you settled for saying, body relaxing the second you found your voice, getting as comfortable as you could while bent over the desk. “You think about this when I gave you that pretty little bruise?”</p><p>Satisfied that you’d given him the greenlight, Placide picked up where he left off. ”You’re not one to talk about such things,” he replied, large, deft fingers reaching between your legs, pushing between layers directly to your already sopping cunt, ”you’re <em> wet </em>.”</p><p>It was true though. When he had grabbed you to jack you in, the familiar rush of something <em> more </em> coating your insides had started pulsating. He was just so big - the towering figure he made over you, or even now, pressing you into the chrome table in a dirty little back room for some privacy. He engulfed the space, filled the air with tension you couldn’t help but swallow. </p><p>Johnny had, of course, given you shit as soon as he caught scent of your attraction to the ‘runner and had been relentless. Whatever he felt at the moment he kept to himself, probably too busy coming to terms with the fact that you’d let yourself get fucked by the man who’d literally tried to kill you just a couple hours ago. However, something told you that he wasn’t unfamiliar with a situation like this - and that might just be why he wasn’t sitting in some corner taunting you. Not like Johnny was big on respecting boundaries anyways<b>.</b></p><p>His hands now a welcomed touch along your body Placide picked up the pace a bit. The fingers between your legs began rubbing against your clit in soft circles. The amount of slick on his fingers didn’t pass you by and you blushed, shoving your head into the cool surface again and letting out a breathy moan. </p><p>Pressed together like this, you almost forgot about what the man had done to you. The oncoming orgasm seemed to blind your senses - it had been so long since someone else than yourself had touched you like this. He was good at it too, the press of his fingertips never too gentle or rough, pulling keening sounds from you. You almost came immediately when a finger slipped lower and circled around your entrance, never pushing in, just teasing. He did that a few times, noting the way you clenched around nothing and letting out a satisfied hum whenever you moaned in disappointment when he stopped just shy of letting a digit enter you. </p><p>You’d just started rocking into his rhythm, pressed between his hard length and the fingers inching you closer, when Placide abruptly pulled his fingers away. You let out a choked sound as all stimulation left you all at once. Not for long though, as he roughly shoved your pants and underwear down just enough for him to reach your cunt.</p><p>You felt him grabbing his cock, the head spreading your folds as he slowly dragged the tip along, spreading the wetness along the shaft. Whenever he reached your clit you clenched, pulsating with the need to be filled. He wouldn’t make you beg, would he? That thought soon vanished, as Placide seemed pleased with the amount of lubrication, his deep voice finally speaking again.</p><p>“You keep your mouth shut now,” he gruffed in a low voice, and you felt the large head of his cock snag your hole, “for once.” He pushed inside.</p><p>“Fuuuck-” was all you managed to get out before his hand clasped over your mouth. </p><p>“Told you to shut it,” his fingers squished your cheeks together, hand covering the whole lower half of your face now, as he bottomed out. Placide was big, the stretch so uncomfortable that you whined behind the palm, writhing against the desk. At least he didn’t start pounding away just yet. He knew exactly how big he was, and how little preparation he’d given you, the bastard. </p><p>The hand moved from your face to your hair, grabbing a fistful before pulling out halfway and thrusting in experimentally. You hissed between clenched teeth, fists scrambling along the table, back arching in on itself, trying to escape the jolt his thrust gave you. The hand not tangled in your locks pushed down on your lower back, forcing you into an arch and angling you just the way he wanted, taking pleasure from your pain with a content sigh as you took the whole of his cock. </p><p>As Placide bottomed out again the air left your lungs, hands flying back and pushing against the tops of his thighs, trying to find purchase against him, to find some relief from the assault on your cervix. “P-placide, y-you’re too b-big I-”</p><p>“Take it,” his hands grabbed your wrists, crossing them and holding them against your back with one giant hand. The other one placed right beside your head, gripping the desk with force. He held you there, pace even as he spoke. “It won’t get better if you don’t.”</p><p>“Fuck you!” you spat at him, but knowing that he was right. It had been awhile since you’d gotten fucked - and it probably, no, <em> most definitely </em> played a role in how this had turned out - but you noted that he was… restraining himself. The way his knuckles had lightened when he grabbed the desk before, the evenness of his every thrust… Had he wanted to be <em> rough </em> he would’ve prepped you more. </p><p>“You do this to all the ladies who beat you up?” you squeezed forth, giving a strangled groan of relief when he pulled out to spread between your folds again, rubbing against your clit more attentively when he reached it. Just as soon, he sunk back into you. You glanced over your shoulder, watching his reaction. “Fuck ‘em, I mean?”</p><p>“You talk too much, merc,” Placide replied, letting out a long breath, hips not stilling, balls slapping against you. He looked untouched by all of this - he hadn’t even taken off his coat. “Perhaps I should’ve put your mouth to good use instead.” </p><p>You didn’t want to tempt him more - even <em> if </em> you could take him. It felt impossible with the way he was stretching you out to accommodate him, a simmering burn that still persisted. Decision making wasn’t the highest on your list of skills however. “Oh, so I’m special?”</p><p>“No. Yet you’re here, are you not?”</p><p>“Really know how to charm a girl, don’t you?” </p><p>“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”</p><p>“Asshole.” You muttered, only to receive a hard thrust that seemed to knock the wind out of you. The stern crack of his hand smacking hard against your ass filled the tiny room, making you jolt. It marked the start of his hips moving faster, and his hand stayed there, kneading your now sore ass and spreading you apart for him.</p><p>Shit... there was something about all of this, the way you were helplessly whimpering for him now. Each moment that passed helped you take him a bit easier, small, almost silent moans erupting from Placide when you’d lift to meet his thrust, pushing back against him. </p><p>The pain was fading away now, rapidly transforming into something else. The steady stream of thrusts were slowly but surely getting you closer to an orgasm - you could feel it, the pressure building inside you like a too tight knot. Your walls fluttered around so, so close-</p><p>Placide stilled and your voice broke into a half shout, half whimper. You pulsed around him, so close to coming - tears brimming against your lash line, threatening to fall when he held you as your hips bucked, searching for any friction at all. Cock still pressed deeply inside, Placide stayed abso-fucking-lutely still. </p><p>“N-no, p-plea-” you started, and this time, tears actually fell. It was <em> unfair </em> - you weren’t even playing in the same league. Your heart was pounding away, cunt throbbing from the denied orgasm while Placide was holding back, at most giving out huffs of breath. You wanted more - that he’d get just as lost in the motions as you were. </p><p>It felt like an eternity that he held you there while you sobbed and writhed into the desk.</p><p>When he finally did move it was like everything increased tenfold - the drag of him inside you suddenly magnified by the two denied orgasms. The way he curved inside you, hitting your sweet spot each time he pushed in. You moaned now, too lost to keep some of your pride intact. </p><p>“Take cock so good,” Placide praised, low and rumbling in his chest, enjoying the view as his hips met yours with a soft slap. Confident enough you’d stay in the harsh arch he’d forced you into, his hand left your hair. The pace was picking up again, the stretch bearable now, fueled by the way his hands gripped at you, everywhere so hungry to feel. They snaked under your shirt and pawed at your tits, pinching nipples and stroked against your stomach and down, barely flicking against your clit. Placide only gave a light chuckle when you bucked and swiveled your hips to get him to touch you more. You moaned, feeling absolutely delirious with pleasure, wanting nothing more than for him to let you cum.</p><p>“Please,” you whined, lost in the feeling. His hips were steady, rhythmic, as was his breathing, the little conformation you’d get that was enjoying this in anyway was his soft hums and groans when you matched his thrusts or when the angle made him hit deep, deep inside, bumping against your cervix while you whimpered from the sensation. He was getting off on it… seeing you like this. The hand tangled in your hair again and pulled you up. You yelped from the sudden force, head swimming from how quick it was. </p><p>“What?” his hips didn’t stop, rather he pressed the entirety of his being against you, mouth by your ear, breathing harder as his hips rolled, slow and teasing. “You gonna beg for this?” he gave a sharp trust that made your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moved, wrapping around your throat instead. “You want this?”</p><p>“Wanted to fuck you like this b-before, pretty girl,” Fear and arousal all mixed together, your fate in someone else's hand entirely, the way Placide was holding you, his cock hitting just the right spot when he was grinding like that against you, oxygen slowly slipping away as the grip tightened. His hand was so big that it bumped into your clavicle, fingers crushing against your windpipe. “Wanted to do it before the GIM.” </p><p>All you could do was nod your head feverishly, tears threatening to fall again. “I would’ve let you,” you squeezed out, delirious now, it was too much, “please, <em> please </em> just let me cum, I-I nee-” </p><p>The hand moved, grabbing at your hair again, pulling your head back against his, teeth biting into your neck while the other slipped down between your legs and <em> finally </em> touched you.</p><p>“<em> Placide </em>, oh-oh-”</p><p>“Quiet,” he groaned again, his breathing rougher now, more clear against the side of your head as he kept biting and sucking marks on your skin. His hips picked up the pace, punishing and clear, your own wetness making the glide and the stretch so easy. </p><p>“So wet, s-so fuckin’ tight,” Placide groaned as you clamped around him, washing over the edge with a strangled cry. He grabbed your hair and turned your head towards his, catching your lips with his own, silencing your moans. You continued to shake and cry against his lips, riding out the long awaited orgasm as his hips slapped against your own, growing faster and fast-</p><p>Placide growled into your mouth, hips stilling as he pressed inside, pressing so hard against your cervix, filling you with cum. He basically shook behind you, the force of it making him cut off the press of his lips against yours with a heavy breath. The bruising grip he had on you softened, the hold he had on your hips and hair lessening as he let you fall against the cool desk, the surface welcomed against your hot skin. </p><p>The two of you stayed like that for a moment. Aftershocks wrecked your body and Placide held onto you again, hands warm and reassuring as they dragged across your sides and arms, stilling you. You hadn’t caught your breath yet when his cock slipped out with a sound that would’ve been embarrassing had you’d still cared. Modesty was scarce after being bent over a table and fucked within an inch of your life. </p><p>You felt his hands going to your ass, pushing apart your cheeks and watching the cum drip from your hole. Placide hummed, sounding pleased, taking in the sight. You could feel the cum running down your inner most thighs now, heard the telltale <em> drop </em> as it hit the floor beneath your still closely pressed bodies.</p><p>“Take a holo,” you snorted, peering back at him, stretching out your back from the position he’d last left you in, “it’ll last you longer.”</p><p>“If you insist,” his eyes glowed, the telltale sign that he’d just done that. He huffed - probably the closest you’d come to getting a laugh out of him - at the dirty look you gave him. </p><p>“You dick,” you said half-heartedly, pushing against the table, testing out the stability of your legs. “Uuugh,” you groaned, feeling boneless. “Could’ve warmed me up a bit, ya know?”</p><p>“Would you have learnt anything from this if I did?” he was tucking himself away, the clinking of his belt buckling giving you your cue that it was time to do so too. </p><p>His cum was still leaking out of you, even as you pulled up your underwear and pants, grimacing at the sticky coldness as it hit your lower lips. “Yeah, whatever - this, this was a one time thing, you know? No hard feelings, big guy, but I think your boss wants me dead or something.” The conversation from before struck you again as you turned around to face him. “Besides, I’m just a <em> ranyon </em>. Disposable, remember.”</p><p>“You came back, didn’t you? More than that then, as Brigitte said.” </p><p>“Yeah, well you better look for someone else to fuck over, <em> litterally </em>, ‘cause-”</p><p>“You enjoyed yourself, did you not?” Placide shrugged, arms folding over his broad barrel chest. “You’ll be back.”</p><p>Placide looked completely untouched from where you’d found him - if not a bit <em> pleased </em>, the fucker. The only sign that something had happened between the two of you was the thin layer of sweat lining his forehead, and the lack of gloves on his hands. Otherwise he stood there, watching as you pieced yourself together, looking like a right mess with your hair crumpled and tear stained face.</p><p>“Yeah yeah, what do you know? Feels like I’ve been split in two.” You heard Johnny snort somewhere in your mind, suddenly aware of the amount of shit he’d give you after this. </p><p>“Good, then I know I did it right.”</p><p>You sent him a look. “What right? Fuckin’ me til I can’t walk? Cause I’m telling you-”</p><p>“Means you’ll come back for more,” Placide shrugged at your blinking eyes, continuing on. “You already came back once after I <em>fucked</em> <em>you over</em>, as you say. I’m certain you will do it again the second time.”</p><p>“Netrunner and psychic? Really got it all, huh? Whole package deal, how lucky for me.” </p><p>His eyes glowed blue again, his number entering your contact list with the barest twitch. He took a step towards you, closing the gap that’d formed between you the moment his dick left your cunt, filling it and taking up enough space to feel suffocating. His hands clasped around your face, the same way he’d done earlier, caging you in warmth as he kissed the top of your head. “You know where to find me.”</p><p>You flushed against your will, not meeting his gaze as he peered down at you, feeling that this was too… intimate, despite the evidence of your time spent together still leaking out of you. “This your idea of pillowtalk?”</p><p>“Goodbye, V,” Placide said, turning around and leaving you to pick up the pieces of yourself that felt confused and satiated and longing until he added, “‘til next time.” </p><p>“Fuck next time!”</p><p>“I am counting on it.” He replied, and you felt your face grow hotter than ever.</p><p>Not a moment passed after Placide left until Johnny appeared, leaning against the wall. He made a mock gagging sound, shoving two fingers towards his mouth. “Can’t believe you just did that.”</p><p>“<em> We </em> did that, you mean,” you retorted, giving the construct a very stern look. “You're in my head, in case you forgot.”</p><p>“For even longer, since you decided to spend an hour fucking your attempted murderer.”</p><p>“Let’s- let’s just-” you sent him a look, rustling among some boxes for your gun, not entirely okay with talking about it with Johnny just yet. “Uuugh, let’s just get out of here, okay?”</p><p>“You know, you really showed him, didn’t you - <em> begging </em> like that.” Johnny did his best impression of you. “ <em> Pleeeaseeee- </em>”</p><p>Your head snapped quickly to Johnny, cutting him off. “Fuck off, you dick!”</p><p>“But he’s right you know,” Johnny replied, peeking at you from over his sunglasses, smoking a cig that wasn’t really real, taking a long drag before finishing off his prediction. “You’ll be back for more.”</p><p>“If you wanna fuck him again that badly, <em> just say so</em>, Johnny.”</p><p>Johnny shrugged, not fazed by your insults. “I give it a week.”</p><p>---</p><p>In the end, it took less than that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i really can't be the only one horny for this man but i think the target audience here is like me and less than ten people.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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